


A Favor for a Friend

by embroiderama



Category: White Collar
Genre: Cross-Generational Friendship, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Gen, Grief/Mourning, Music
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-23
Updated: 2013-01-23
Packaged: 2017-11-26 15:21:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,538
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/651748
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/embroiderama/pseuds/embroiderama
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When June thinks she's lost something forever, Neal works his magic to give it back to her.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Favor for a Friend

**Author's Note:**

> This is for the "loss of hearing" square on my [](http://hc-bingo.livejournal.com/profile)[**hc_bingo**](http://hc-bingo.livejournal.com/) card, but I’ve used it metaphorically rather than literally and the h/c is very light. Thank you to [](http://theatregirl7299.livejournal.com/profile)[](http://theatregirl7299.livejournal.com/)**theatregirl7299** for the beta.

Neal slipped through the front door of June's house and was about to climb the stairs when he heard June's voice coming from the sitting room.

"No, _thank you_ , Lucy," she said, her voice strangely unsteady. "Please just—" She went quiet, and Neal watched one of the maids, a young woman who kept her hair pulled back in a thick braid, leave the room carrying a tray with a teacup on it.

"Lucy?" The maid startled at the sound of Neal's voice, and he stepped closer. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to surprise you. Did something happen? Her granddaughter?"

Lucy bit her lip and shook her head. "I—I don't think so. Ms. Ellington is upset about something but there haven't been any phone calls or visitors this afternoon."

"Okay, I'll see if there's anything I can help with. Thanks, Lucy."

She nodded and hurried back toward the kitchen. Neal brushed his hands over the front of his jacket before stepping into the doorway and knocking lightly on the woodwork. June was sitting in an elegant armchair that was pulled up in front of the stereo system she normally kept hidden behind the doors of an armoire. She had her head tilted down, the back of her hand held against her lips, and when she looked up Neal saw that she'd been crying.

Neal stopped waiting for an invitation; he walked into the room and knelt down at June's feet. "What happened?" Neal pitched his voice low and steady. "June?"

She sniffed deeply and shook her head. "Nothing, dear, I'm sorry. I'm just being a ridiculous old woman."

Neal sat back on his heels and handed her his handkerchief. "Those are the last words I'd use to describe you."

June unfolded the fine fabric and dabbed at the corners of her eyes. "I'm making a fuss over this old CD, so I'm certain the words apply." She held up a ripped paper sleeve and a recordable CD that was cracked in two. "I was searching for an album Cindy asked to borrow, and I didn't realize this old thing had gotten stuck by the door hinge until I heard it break." She sighed and shook her head.

"What was on it?" Neal asked quietly. Clearly it wasn't anything ordinary.

June raised one eyebrow. "You're going to hurt yourself kneeling like that. If we're going to talk we should go sit on the divan." She rose from the chair, and Neal stood and followed her over to the couch. "My Byron had a lovely singing voice, and back, oh, in the late eighties he got together with an old friend who owned a recording studio and a few musicians who owed him favors and recorded a few songs. He gave me the cassette for my birthday, and then some years ago Cindy put it on this CD for me."

June looked down at the broken disc in her hands. She didn't seem to be done speaking, so Neal let the silence sit between them.

"Well, the cassette is gone, and I don't believe there's another copy anywhere. I suppose that's that then."

"I had no idea Byron was a singer."

June smiled though her eyes were still watery. "Well, he was never going to make a living on the stage, that's for certain. But I loved to hear him anyway, singing the songs we loved together for so many years. I don't play it often, and after it broke I realized that I didn't know the last time I listened to it. I tried to remember the way it sounded, and I couldn't. Forty years with my Byron, and I can't hear his voice anymore. It's just slipped away."

She pressed her lips together and dabbed at her eyes again, then straightened her shoulders. "I told you I was being a ridiculous old woman."

Neal reached out and touched her hand. "That's not ridiculous. Not at all. I'm so sorry, June."

"It's nobody's fault but mine." June sighed. "And I was short with poor Lucy. I'll have to apologize to her."

"Lucy's fine. She's probably off in the kitchen studying for her midterms." Neal looked at the broken CD in June's hand. "Will you let me have that? I can't make any promises, but maybe there's something that can be done."

"Of course." June passed the two pieces of the disk over to Neal. "I appreciate that you're even willing to try, though I can't see how it could ever be played again."

"We'll see." Neal stood and looked toward the doorway. "Do you want me to see if Lucy can bring a fresh cup of tea now?"

"That would be lovely. Thank you, my dear."

Neal took the CD and went to find Lucy before heading up to his rooms. He was going to need to call in some favors the next day, and he had to come up with a plan.

~~~

The next day Neal arrived at the office to find Peter fully engrossed in a new case, which had them running down leads all over the tri-state area for the next two days. He kept June's CD in the top drawer of his desk in the bullpen. When the case was finally wrapped up and the woman who'd taken insurance fraud to a new and really kind of disgusting level was safely in the hands of the US Attorney, Neal found his opportunity.

Peter was in a long meeting and Neal had some files to look through but he could manage that in far less time than Peter's meeting would allow. He slipped out to the bakery he'd found on Yelp then back to the FBI building and up to the floor where Laboratory Services were was located.

The admin assistant in the White Collar department, who was very good at her job, usually fun to talk to and a dedicated gossip, had told Neal that her counterpart in the Laboratory Services department was crazy for gluten-free cupcakes. Armed with a box of four delicately decorated wheat-free creations, Neal walked up to her desk and put on his best smile.

The cupcakes earned Neal entrance into the department and an introduction to the tech in the Computer Analysis office who specialized in extracting data from digital media.

George was a straightforward guy; he looked at the broken CD and scoffed that he could retrieve data from a disc that had been put through a shredder, but he didn't want cupcakes or wine or tickets to see the Yankees play. He didn't want money, either - not that Neal could officially admit to having much cash on hand. George wanted Neal to pose as his date to his college friend's wedding in Connecticut, and nothing else would do.

Neal didn't mind, but George was an analyst, not an agent, and Connecticut was a fair distance outside his radius. Neal tucked the CD back in his jacket pocket for safekeeping and promised to get back to him if he could make the logistics work.

Back at his desk, Neal interspersed reading through files with research related to the date and location of the wedding. The next step would be winning over Diana or Clinton to the task of shadowing Neal (and, by default, George) to the wedding. Neal already knew that Peter would be out of town that weekend, and the only way for the plan to work was for one of them to agree to sacrifice their Saturday afternoon and evening. It wasn't going to be an easy sell, but Neal wasn't ready to give up.

The next day, Neal approached Diana with a folder containing print-outs from the website of the hotel where the wedding reception would be held. Diana wouldn't be won over by food or flattery or smiles, and she certainly didn't want to go on a date, but Neal had an idea of what might tempt her. He rolled his chair over next to her desk.

"Hey, Diana, I have a bit of an odd request."

She raised an eyebrow. "Coming from you, that's a little scary."

"Okay, I know. But listen, I'm trying to get a guy named George down in the Computer Analysis department to do me a big favor." Neal held up his hands, forestalling Diana's protest. "A completely legal favor, I swear. And the only way he's going to help me out is if I—" Neal paused and braced himself for Diana's reaction. "—go with him to a wedding. In Connecticut. As his date."

Diana raised both eyebrows at that. "Caffrey, are you serious? You've been holding out on me?"

"No. No, nothing against George, but I'm not interested in him at all. But I don't mind having an excuse to put on my best suit and eat fancy canapés."

Diana looked at him sharply for a moment, then rolled her eyes. "And of course you have a two-mile radius, so you can't go on your date without a chaperone. I guess you're going to tell me what would be in this for me?"

Neal slid the folder closer to Diana and opened it. "The wedding is this coming Saturday, and both the ceremony and the reception are at this hotel. We wouldn't have to stay overnight, but while I'm busy being arm candy you could be in the spa getting massaged and pedicured and slathered in mud. Or whatever you want."

Diana picked up the print-out of the hotel's spa services and took her time perusing it. "Damn. I have to admit this sounds like a pretty good deal." She put down the papers and looked back at Neal. "But I'm gonna need more information here. You're not asking me to keep this from Peter are you?"

"Not at all. I know he's busy that weekend, and I'd rather have the whole plan put together before I go ask him about it. That's all."

Diana nodded. "Okay. And who's paying for this hypothetical trip to the day spa?"

"Mozzie." Mozzie would be getting the money out of Neal's back-up account, so that was close enough to the truth.

"Uh-huh. And why doesn't _Mozzie_ just pay George for his services? Or pay somebody else?"

"George doesn't want money." Neal suspected George would get in more trouble for accepting outside money for FBI services than he would for using Bureau equipment to do a favor for a friend, and Diana certainly knew that. "And anybody else, either I'd have to deal with putting something in the mail and waiting for it to come back, which I don't want to do, or they're a local contact who'd be asking for favors you really don't want me to provide."

"That I believe. Okay, if Peter gives me the go-ahead to be your handler for the evening I think I'm in, but I need to know one more thing. Who is this favor really for?"

"June. It's nothing even the slightest bit illegal, and it's for June."

Diana flipped the folder shut and smiled. "Bring on the chocolate body wrap!"

Later that morning, Peter found Neal over by the coffee machine. "So, you want Diana to get naked while you moonlight as an escort?"

Neal shrugged and flashed Peter his best fake-innocent smile. "You got it."

Peter pursed his lips and looked at Neal like he was trying to read his mind. "And this is a personal favor for June?"

"It is. Nothing even vaguely illegal."

Peter nodded. "Look me in the eye and tell me that again."

Neal looked Peter in the eye. " It’s legitimate. I'll give you all the details if you really want me to, but it's really June's personal business."

"I understand. Can you give me some idea of what you want this analyst to do for you?"

Neal sighed. He couldn't blame Peter or Diana for their due diligence, but it did get tiresome. "I need him to recreate the data from a broken CD. It's just music." Neal held up a hand. "Not music box fractal music or anything like that. Just songs."

"Okay. If Diana is willing and this analyst is willing, I'll sign off on it."

Neal smiled then, a real smile. "Thank you. Seriously."

"You're welcome. Now go—conspire to your heart's content. We've got a new case to look at after lunch."

Neal confirmed the arrangement with Diana then went down to Laboratory Services to see George again. He left the CD along with his phone number and set a time for Saturday. He crossed his fingers that George would be able to work some technical magic to make the whole thing worthwhile.

~~~

Saturday started with a few hours of work on the new case, then Diana took Neal home so he could transform himself into the perfect date. The drive up to Connecticut was about as awkward as Neal had expected, but then Diana headed to the spa area of the hotel and Neal accompanied George to the ballroom where the wedding was being held. Neal turned on the charm and worked the room as George's beloved boyfriend until they were full of appetizers and champagne and ready to go home. Diana, looking relaxed and glowing happily, met them in the lobby at p.m. for the drive back to Manhattan.

In the car, George handed Neal an envelope; inside were two CDs in slim jewel cases and a tiny thumb drive. "I retrieved and repaired the files and did my best to smooth over the skips, though some of them may be audible on a close listen."

"I'm sure that won't be a problem." Neal thought about June’s reaction to hearing her husband's voice again when she thought it was lost forever. "I really appreciate that you took care of this so quickly."

George grinned and leaned back in his seat. "For the look on my ex's face? A late night at work was more than worth it."

When Neal got home, the mansion was quiet and dark, aside from the foyer light June always left on for him. He wrote June's name on the envelope and left it on the console table where she or one of the maids would find it in the morning. He was tempted to borrow the thumb drive to take a listen, and he almost convinced himself that doing so would be necessary quality control, but he knew it would be better to let June share it in her own time.

In the morning, Neal found June sitting on the terrace with croissants and coffee, a small portable stereo on the table. As he walked closer, Neal heard a warm tenor voice singing "The Shelter of Your Arms," Sammy Davis Jr. style. June was smiling, eyes closed, her face tipped back to catch the morning sunlight. At the end of the song, June lowered the volume and turned to look at Neal as he took a seat at the table.

"Thank you. Oh my dear, I don't know what else to say. You've let me hear Byron's voice again." Her eyes were bright with a hint of tears, and she took Neal's hand and squeezed it tight.

"It was my pleasure," Neal said, meaning every word.


End file.
